Special note before we begin: So I didn't meet the goal of having the rest of the 5 chapters done by January obviously. Nevertheless I finally managed to get through the writers block and pump out the last couple paragraphs of this second chapter. I do still plan to keep the first five chapters free for all so please keep an eye out for chapters 3-5! When I've built up enough of a backlog of chapters after that I'll start posting them to my patreon as a tiered benefit. Please keep a look out on my patreon page for more details when that time arrives. One final note before you read this chapter. As I've finalized some of the character names since last chapter post any filler names have been replaced with the new one. I think the only one that is going to be different for this chapter is 'James' though, who is now 'Conall'- Conall James Volkov. Martha's full name is now Martha Alina Robertson.
CHAPTER 2 – Punchable Faces
Martha
woke sluggishly. Head pounding her vision slowly came into blurry focus. At
first the only thing that registered was a soft yellow light illuminating the
area. As her vision cleared she could see that just a few feet from where she
lay was a wall made of wrought iron bars. Suddenly aware of the hard stone she
was lying on she attempted to sit up for a better look around and immediately
regretted it. Besides the vertigo that her hasty movement caused the throbbing
in her skull increased and every inch of her was screaming how sore her body
was. Closing her eyes in attempt to keep the dizziness at bay she appreciated
the fact that as far as she could tell she was only that. Sore.
The
memories of the events leading to her assault suddenly coming back to her full
force had her leaping up in a panic. Which was another mistake as the vertigo
and migraine that had just started to fade both came back with a vengeance causing
her to topple forwards. Grabbing onto the bars for balance and to keep from
face planting into them Martha tried to take a steadying breath.
Voices.
She could hear voices and footsteps drawing nearer to her cell. Assuming it was
a cell. It couldn’t be anything else with the bars and three stone walls.
Slowly- having finally learned her lesson about moving quickly right now-
Martha began to back away from the bars until her back was against the wall behind
her. Promptly the persons belonging to the approaching footsteps came into view
ceasing their hushed whispering to each other at the sight of her.
“Ahh,
look who’s finally awake,” said the man. He was dark haired and a little gruff
looking in his worn brown leather jacket and dark jeans. To his right and
standing slightly behind him was a stern looking woman about a head taller than
him with a dark red-orange bob-cut. Notably the lady was dressed in a gray
business skirt and suit jacket with sensible flats in contrast to her more
casually rugged companion.
“Where-,
“ Martha began voice catching in her throat.
“Where
are you?” he asked. “Well underground for starters-, “ the woman gives him a
sharp look.
“No!”
Martha interrupts. “Conall! Where- Co-, “ she can’t finish the sentence. The
memory of her cousin disappearing with that… thing replaying in her mind
like a horror film. She can hardly process it but whoever these people holding
her captive are she has no doubt they know something about it.
“Conall?”
the man’s brow furrows. A second later understanding lights his features. “Oh,
you mean that boy that Darwin saw with you? A nasty shame that, getting hauled
off by that monster. He was your cousin right? So sorry about that.“ he said
not sounding really all that sorry.
Paling
slightly Martha asked “You don’t mean he’s- “
“What?
Dead? Unfortunate but more than likely.” Martha was really starting to despise
this man’s irreverent attitude. “A right horrible way to go probably torn up to
shreds- “
“Shut
up!” she shrieked grasping onto the iron bars again. She was only slightly
validated by the reproachful look the woman was sending his way. “Why?” she
croaked. “Why would you send that thing to kill-, “
“What
you think that was our doing?” he asked amusedly gesturing to his companion
and himself in turn. “Oh, no no no little miss you got it all wrong.” She
really wanted to punch that grin off his stupid face.
“Margo
that’s enough.” The woman finally speaks up before he can continue with what he
meant by that. Stepping forward she pointedly glares her partner into taking a
few steps back. Turning back to address Martha she says “Rest assured we are
not responsible for sending the shadow beast after you or your cousin young
lady.”
“But you
know what it is,” Martha pressed mentally filing away the term ‘shadow beast’.
“We do.”
She says.
And says
nothing else.
“Well
what do you know?” Martha asks again desperation seeping into her voice.
“We-“
Margo starts.
“I don’t
think we should- “
“Hey I got this.” Margo holds a
pacifying hand out to his companion. “I think this,” and he gestures with his
other hand to Martha. “Is something we can use.” The woman purses her lips as
she gives the man an unreadable look before seeming to concede. “Alright.” She says.
The man Margo steps forward to just
a foot in front of the bars. In the same motion he reaches into a right pants
pocket and pulls out a set of keys on a
ring which he twirls round his finger. Martha takes a step back. “I- ” he smirks, “am
going to unlock this door for you.” He reaches out with his other hand and
rattles the bars. “And you are going to not kick up a fuss- like a good well
behaved little girl- and we’ll take you upstairs, get you all cleaned up, with
a hot meal, change of clothes, maybe some sweets.” Martha sincerely wishes to
punch him. “And then we’ll tell the little miss everything she wants to
know. In exchange,” he leans in towards her cell. Martha barely resists the
urge to back up again. “You.” Dramatic pause. “Will become our little
helper.” Margo has a very punchable face Martha decides.
“So?” he asks. “What does little
miss say?” A teasing rattle of the keys.
Martha is silent for a beat as she
glares her displeasure.
“Fine.” She says. She hadn’t
thought that grin could get any wider, but there it does. “Wonderful!” says
Margo. A playful toss of the keys from finger to palm and the lock gets undone.
The hinges of the metal door creaks loudly as it’s pulled open. Margo makes a
grand gesture to the left of himself one hand still on the cell door. ”Right
this way Miss!”
Martha clenches her fists and takes
a step forward.
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